Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(89)

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say a word, he cut her off. “Gwen doesn’t count.”

Unlike Portia, Annabelle thrived on being defensive. “Gwen was almost perfect.”

“As long as we overlook her husband and that inconvenient pregnancy.”

Portia sat straighter in her chair. Annabelle crossed her hands primly in her lap. “You have to admit she was exactly what you’re looking for.”

“Yeah, bigamy’s my life’s dream, all right.”

“You cornered me,” she replied. “And, let’s be honest. Once she got to know you, she’d have dumped you. You’re way too high maintenance.”

Portia’s eyes had widened like butterfly wings. She studied Annabelle more closely. Then she got a little twitchy. She uncrossed the legs she’d crossed, crossed them again. Her top foot—the one in the navy sling-back—began tapping away. “I’m sure Annabelle has learned by now to be more careful with her background checks.”

Annabelle pretended surprise. “I was supposed to check Heath’s background?”

“Not Heath’s background,” Portia retorted. “The women!”

Heath fought a smile. “Annabelle is baiting you. I’ve learned it’s best to ignore her.”

Now Portia looked genuinely rattled. Annabelle almost felt sorry for her as she watched the navy sling-back move faster and faster.

Heath, in the meantime, made a sprint for the goal line. “Here’s the way it’s going to be, ladies. I made a mistake by not signing contracts with a shorter term, but it’s a mistake I’m correcting right now. You each have one shot left. That’s it.”

The sling-back froze. “When you say one shot…”

“One introduction each,” Heath said firmly.

Portia twisted in her chair, knocking the Kate Spade handbag over with her heel. “That’s not realistic.”

“Work with it.”

“Are you sure you really want to get married?” Annabelle said. “Because, if you do, maybe you should think about the possibility—more than a possibility, in my judgment, but I’m trying to be diplomatic …Have you thought about the possibility that you’re the one who’s sabotaging this process, not us?”

Portia shot her a warning look. “Sabotage is a strong word. I’m sure what Annabelle means to say is that—”

“What Annabelle means to say”—she rose from her chair—“is that we introduced you to some terrific women, but you only gave one of them a chance. The wrong one—again, only my opinion. We’re not magicians, Heath. We have to work with flesh-and-blood human beings, not some fantasy woman you’ve conjured in your mind.”

Portia plastered a phony smile on her face and rushed to save the sinking ship. “I hear what you’re saying, Heath. You’re not satisfied with the service you’ve been getting from Power Matches. You want us to vet the candidates more carefully, and that’s certainly a reasonable request. I can’t speak for Miss Granger, but I promise that I’ll proceed more conservatively from now on.”

“Very conservatively,” he said. “You have one introduction. The same goes for you, Annabelle. After that, I’m calling it quits.”

Portia’s plastic smile melted at the edges. “But your contract runs into October. It’s only mid-August.”

“Save your breath,” Annabelle said. “Heath wants an excuse to fire us. He doesn’t believe in failure, and if he fires us, he can transfer the blame.”

“Fire us?” Portia looked sick.

“It’ll be a new experience for you,” Annabelle said glumly. “Fortunately for me, I’ve had practice.”

Portia pulled herself back together. “I know this has been frustrating, but it’s frustrating for everyone who goes through the process. You deserve results, and you’ll get them, but only with a little patience.”

“I’ve been patient for months,” he said. “That’s long enough.”

Annabelle looked into his proud stubborn face and couldn’t keep silent. “Are you going to take ownership for any part of the problem?”

He met her gaze dead-on. “Absolutely. That’s what I’m doing right now. I told you I was looking for someone extraordinary, and if I’d thought it would be easy to find her, I’d have done it myself.” He rose from the corner of the desk. “Take as long as you need to come up with your last introduction. And believe me, nobody hopes that one of you gets it right more than I do.”

He made his way to the door, then stood back to let them out, his head outlined against the sign for the Beau Vista Trailer Park hanging on the wall behind him.

Annabelle retrieved her purse and gave him her most dignified nod, but she was fuming as she left his office, definitely in no mood to share an elevator with Portia, so she moved quickly through the lobby to the elevator bank.

As it turned out, she had no need to rush.



Portia slowed her steps as she watched Annabelle disappear. Bodie’s office lay just ahead on her right. When she’d walked past it earlier, she’d forced herself not to look in, but she’d known he was there. She could feel him through her skin. Even during that horrible meeting with Heath when she’d most needed to keep her wits, she’d felt him.